Saturday's jazz: all day with Chet Baker.
1. Although I wasn't in a wistful mood today, nor was my soul in a state of longing, I got to feel that sense of things being incomplete, that haunting feeling that there must be something in life I'm missing by listening to Chet Baker play his melancholy trumpet and sing old standards in his yearning way all day long.
2. I returned to an old, neglected pleasure today: I wrote two letters by hand. I might just add letter writing to my growing list of pleasures to enjoy while spending so much time in the house.
3. After Debbie and I finished our delicious dinner of green bean, white bean, white onion, and artichoke heart salad, a salmon patty, and brown rice, Christy came over to the deck and I got to make her one of those cocktails I made last night, blending brandy, rye whiskey, triple sec, and orange bitters. It worked again. We had fun yakkin' away and cooling off on the deck.
Here's a limerick by Stu:
Is there any food now you will fix?
That when younger you’d just “eighty six”?
Strewed tomatoes, raw fish,
Sauerkraut in a dish?
You can tell tastes have changed from our picks.
No comments:
Post a Comment